Sinking to the Bottom of the Ocean
by IfISeeStars
Summary: He's had the same dream for years. As hard as he tries, he can't stop the water from pulling him down. One night, he sees a familiar figure watching him fall. He just wants to be saved from his dreams – and himself. Sasuke/Naruto - yaoi.
1. Prologue

**Full Summary: He's had the same dream for years. As hard as he tries, he can't stop the water from pulling him down. One night, he sees a familiar figure watching him fall. Somehow, for some reason, it gives him hope. He just wants to be saved from his dreams – and himself.**

**Warnings: (future) rape, drug use, sex for drugs, torture, yaoi. Don't like, don't read.**

This happened every night, every time he wanted sleep.

It started the same. Below him, clear, dark blue water led down to a black void. Above him, the sunset kissed the skies the colors of fire. There was nothing else when he looked around him – no land, no animals and no other humans. Chakra flowed to his feet, a basic act after years of being a shinobi, and he could easily stand on the top of the water, letting the cold waves lick at his toes and shoes.

It was quiet. He had fleeting thoughts that he had gone deaf until the waves slapped higher against his shoes. When he looked down, he had to shake his head before he recognized the curling of the water around his ankles. Panic hit him like a train and he tried to pull his legs free. As soon as he moved, the water became more vicious and wrapped around his body faster, up to his waist and he was yanked down. He kicked his legs in an effort to break free, but it felt like an invisible force was sucking him down.

As the water reached his torso, he sent chakra to his hands and arms to scrabble and claw at the top of the water to pull himself up. The harder he pulled up, the harder the water pulled him down. He clenched his teeth as a way to ignore the pain; it felt as if his joints were being torn apart the harder he fought against the pull. With one more harsh tug, he maneuvered his body free, onto the top of the water, gasping for air into his lungs.

The water calmed under him, like it was at first, and he slowly pushed himself to his knees, taking his time as if too much movement would start the struggle all over again. He gladly accepted the deafening silence because it meant peace.

But then, just when he started thinking it might be safe, the water separated under him. He would have fallen if the water hadn't come up like a claw around his middle and pulled him down again. He forced chakra to his hands again, but this time he acted too late, and the force taking him down was too strong. It felt dense, as if it was pushing from all directions onto his body as it took him down farther. He kicked and waved his arms, but nothing helped at all. He only succeeded in exhausting himself. Below the surface, the blue water was still clear and reflected the colors of the sky.

It became harder to hold his breath, and he looked up for one last time before he knew he had to breathe in.

Vision blurred, this time by the rippling surface of the water, he saw a flash of yellow, orange, and black against the sky. It was a person. Why were they here? Would they save him?

Then, he felt his lungs fail him and he took a deep breath.


	2. Welcome Home

**Author's Note: I don't know if the "chakra blocks" are even possible, but it could be.**

**Thank you so much for the comments on the last part! Hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own anything belonging to Masashi Kishimoto.**

From the outside of the towering wall that surrounded the city, Konoha looked the same since the last time he saw it. How many years was it? Eight? Nine? Ten? He'd lost count too long ago.

He neared the open gates, stumbling over his feet. He was exhausted from lack of sleep and something that was slowly disintegrating into his blood stream, and it made him groggy and slow. Sloppy movements and a dazed mind were unusual for him, though it happened more times now than it ever did earlier in his life. His impressive chakra that many, including the Nine Tailed Fox, had commented on was still within him, but it was repressed or muted as of late. Some even feared him for it, but what was he now? Too sluggish and unaware to defend himself against anyone.

As he neared the gate, eyes drooped and body leaning to one side and then the other to keep his balance, he vaguely saw the two men that watched the gate for travelers entering. He watched as they rose from their sitting positions with curious looks, whispering to each other about something he couldn't hear. When he looked forward, he could see the busy shopping district of the village where many people buzzed about and laughed. They made him dizzy.

At the very front of the village, where the gates were wide open, he took one clumsy step into the place he had refused as his home years ago. Then, he stopped. He hazily heard the two guards exit the small booth, watching him intently. A deafening roar filled his ears and his vision swam worse than ever. Someone was asking his something, but it just added to the roaring he already heard. He felt his body sway dangerously to the sides. His vision blurred and he couldn't stop himself as he fell to his knees, and then blacked out on the dirt.

* * *

He woke up gasping, pushing himself into a sitting position to try to choke out water that never existed.

After his coughing fit, he looked around the hospital room. The bed he was on was firm and the lights were so bright that they hurt his eyes. Outside of the large window, it was dark with night. Thin needles were poked into his left hand; he followed their clear tubes to see two bags hanging from an IV stand. He studied them for a short time, but gave up when he couldn't figure out what the words meant. Next to him, the beeping of his heart rate made a constant, high-pitched beep.

The door to the room was closed, but he could see some figures standing outside of the frosted glass. The sound of talking – and screaming – leaked through the door, but the words were jumbled. He tried his hardest to listen because he managed to hear his name. Why were they talking about him? What were they saying?

As he tried to concentrate, he was hit with a crippling pain in his head. His hands flew to his hair and he squeezed, as if scratching his scalp could take the pain away; his body folded into itself so that he was in a small ball. He let out a pained wail, and the fast beeping of his heart rate struck his ears like a hammer to his skull. He screamed again, as if it would be able to release some of the pressure in his head.

The door opened and the group outside rushed in, all talking and moving at once. He gripped his head harder and curled into himself tighter, hoping that they would leave again. A woman with blonde hair in pigtails and wearing a green jacket took fast steps to him. He shied away from her hard stare, catching her hand when it was approaching his forehead. His body hurt from holding her back.

"This won't hurt," she promised. "I'm going to take the pain away." Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. Behind her, everyone else that had come into the room were still talking all at once, making a white noise that made his head feel like it was throbbing.

He looked into her eyes again, seeing the same hardness that matched her voice. He grimaced with another wave of pain, and let go of her hand. He felt her warm fingers at his forehead, and then it felt as if his pain was simply stolen from his body. He fell back onto the bed, relaxed, the pain quickly subsiding.

"You can sleep it off." She turned away from him, demanding a name.

He may have been familiar with it, but he pushed the talking to background noise. What was that pain? He couldn't remember anything that felt like that except…he forced those thoughts from his mind. Now, at least, he felt comfortably numb and tired. He left them for a reason. At his side, a black-haired woman pulled the needles from his hand and put gauze over the small holes. She turned away as soon as she was done.

He felt his eyes grow heavier, losing the strength to keep them open. Before he fell into unconsciousness, he saw a familiar flash of silver and tried his hardest to say _Kakashi._ But it was just a twitch of his lips.

* * *

Maybe he should have felt humiliated. Two people, Kakashi, his old teacher who he'd missed, and Shizune, who he remembered to be an assistant to the Hokage, dressed his limp body when he awoke from his sleep. Shizune held his weak body up while the elder shinobi pulled his pants on over his underwear. Then, the young woman helped drape him over Kakashi's back, making sure he wasn't too heavy.

His previous sensei said good-bye to Shikamaru before he flickered to his apartment. He shut his eyes tight, scared that the quick motion would make him sick. Once they were outside, Kakashi unlocked the front door before entering, slowly making his way through the spacious flat. He made his way through the kitchen and turned right down a long hallway. He walked the entire way to the end and into a room that looked like it was never touched.

He was gently laid on the soft bed, then the Jonin maneuvered the blankets so that they were covering his previous student. He was still tired, but didn't want to sleep; he felt sick of sleeping, but knew he was still too weak to do anything else. He should have let Kakashi kill him when they last met. It would have been so much easier than this. He sighed heavily at the thought, looking to the man that sat on the side of the bed.

"It's been a long time," he said softly. He was just as he was remembered – stoic, but with a hint of caring under the surface. If he was acting or not was hard (if not impossible) to tell, but he wasn't one to lie.

The man on the bed just nodded. He was callous, but years of suffering and weakness peeled the hard skin away and left him feeling homesick and desperate. He wanted to speak, to hold a conversation, but he wondered if he could even speak anymore. His eyelids started to fall; he tried his hardest to force them back open.

Kakashi didn't miss this as he stood, saying, "I should let you sleep. My room is down the hall to the right, the bathroom is on the left. You can wake me up if you need anything." And with that he was leaving, shutting the light off. His hand was on the doorknob, pulling it shut, draping the room in complete darkness.

"Don't shut the door!" He found his voice when he yelled. The outburst was random and tore from his vocal cords, he unable to stop it. He couldn't sit up, but he managed to hold his hand out. His eyes seemed to shine in the darkness, tired though they were.

It shocked the Jonin only slightly; he turned back into the room. His former student dropped his arm, still pleading with his eyes. The elder man nodded and pushed it open again. Exhausted eyes looked relieved before shutting and he quickly fell asleep. Kakashi stood in the doorway for a few extra seconds before turning back to the dark hallway, fully intent on crawling into bed himself. "It's good to have you back, Sasuke," he whispered.

Later that night, his eyes opened. The only light came from the moon, leaking silver into the room and casting black shadows. With wavering and sore arms, he forced his body into a sitting position, head in his hands. His entire body hurt almost as bad as the headache he had earlier. He wanted to be happy here, but did he have to be paralyzed to feel it? He shut his eyes as he tried rubbing his neck as a way to take away a small amount of soreness.

It was comfortable in the apartment, the air not too cold on his bare torso. But suddenly, his skin was ignited with goose bumps from a brisk wind that seemed to find a way in. He froze, eyes looking down the hall for some reason how a wind could have gotten in. The sound of the front door shutting resonated through the house, like someone was closing it themselves to make sure it didn't make any unnecessary noises. He felt like he should tell Kakashi, try to fight them off, do _something_.

He watched as a figure stumbled into the hallway, having to walk through a patch of dim moonlight from the living room. It was a male, about his age, clad in the black and grey uniform he knew too well. The porcelain mask of a dog covered the side of his head, obstructing his profile from view. As he made his way into the hallway, the intruder paused, head down. Thinking the shinobi was there for him, Sasuke's breath froze in his chest. But instead of searching for him, the man turned to his left, towards Kakashi's room. _ANBU_, Sasuke thought. What did the Hokage's assassins want with his old sensei? He still felt like he should have done something to warn him.

The ANBU member must have not realized the door was closed, because his head hit with a _thump_, and then he was cursing as he pushed the door open, shutting it most of the way behind him. The familiar voice struck a chord somewhere deep inside the Uchiha, something he had tried his hardest to suppress. Was he really an ANBU member? How long had he been going on deadly missions to defend his precious village? _Had he looked for him?_ He shook his head of the thoughts.

In the dark of the house, he heard the quiet muffled voices leaking through the walls. Interested, he forced himself to the side of the bed, clenching his teeth as he pushes himself to his feet. His legs wobbled dangerously, and he had to grip the bedside table with trembling arms to keep himself from falling. As he took stiff, awkward steps, his muscles throbbed in pain and protested moving the slightest bit. When he came to the door frame, he clutched it with an iron grip. He all but threw himself at the wooden door frame down the hall, clutching it with both hands to steady himself. He tasted blood in his mouth from biting his lower lip to hold back whimpers.

When his breathing slowed, he made sure the talking hadn't stopped – he was slightly worried he'd made too much noise. But no, the two men inside the bedroom were still conversing quietly. A bedside light had been turned on, allowing a warm orange light to fill the corner of the room and cast dark shadows where the small lamp's light couldn't reach. He watched and listened closely, hoping that some of what happened would be revealed.

The ANBU member pulled his black shirt over his head and tossed it behind him towards the door, where the arm guards, vest, and gloves were already discarded in a pile. Sasuke noticed that the porcelain mask was delicately hung over the bed, next to another mask that he knew to be Kakashi's. He felt a light embarrassment when the assassin started removing his pants.

He averted his eyes to his previous sensei, slightly shocked to see his face bare. He was used to seeing him with some type of covering over his face, but now he could see the sharp, handsome face that made women (and men) swoon; his scarred eye was closed, covering the Sharingan. He was sitting with his chest bare, while his lower half was covered by shorts and a light sheet. Sasuke moved his attention again when he noticed the ANBU member, now dressed in a new pair of boxers, was crawling under the sheets next to Kakashi. He froze. _Were they…since when?_

He finally focused on their conversation. They were lying on their sides, facing each other, the assassin's back towards him. Their voices were hushed, but they were easy to hear in the silence of the house.

"I know it's late and you just got back, but we need to talk about something," Kakashi started. His dark eye searched the ANBU member's seriously.

The light voice grumbled as the lithe body stretched before he said, "I have to get up early. Can't it wait until later tomorrow?" He started to turn over, making Sasuke freeze and grip the doorframe in fear of being caught, but the elder shinobi caught the tan arm with one hand.

"No, this is important." He looked deadly serious, so the younger assassin relaxed back into his previous position. The hand on his former student's arm loosened, and it turned into a caring touch. Again, Sasuke was confused by the gesture. "While you were gone today, something happened…"

Suddenly alert and startled that something may have happened to someone in the village, his body tensed. "What? Is everyone okay?" His voice sparked memories he thought he had long forgotten. It was only slightly deeper than he remembered it, never able to forget his joyful cries of becoming Hokage or following his nindo.

The hand resting on the tan arm stroked up and down. "Naruto," he said in a hesitant whisper, "Sasuke came back." _Naruto._ He wanted to form the name from his own mouth, but every time he tried to form the words, he choked. A name for a boy, no, a man so perfect should not be tainted by a traitor's lips.

There was a long, pregnant pause, one that was thick and suffocating to all three men in the apartment. "S-Sasuke?" Coming from Naruto's mouth, his name was like a song whispered to the wind – it was beautiful, simple, and felt like something that should be a secret. Even though his face wasn't visible, he knew Naruto was shocked. "Where is he? Who's taking care of him? Is he okay?" So many questions lingered at the tip of his tongue, though he left most unspoken.

Kakashi, as always, stayed calm and his voice stayed even. "Relax, he's fine. He's in the guest room. I offered to take care of him because I figured we knew him best." Naruto pushed all of the covers off of himself and was about to jump up again, but Kakashi's arm wrapped around his torso and pulled him back down. He struggled, and Sasuke noticed it was a challenge for his former sensei to hold back the ANBU member. "You can't see him yet," he explained. "He's resting. He walked through the gates earlier today and collapsed from exhaustion and…" His words trailed off as if he didn't know what to say.

"What? What?" Naruto was pleading him to finish, begging to know what happened. _Just tell him,_ Sasuke thought. _Just tell me…_

"He was taken to the hospital, where Tsunade operated on him right away. She removed an alien substance – a chakra suppressor – from his bloodstream. When she did, his chakra flowed back into his body so fast that his heart was overloaded. He died for two minutes. So, Tsunade blocked his chakra before she managed to get his heart beating again. He woke up a about ten hours after with crippling pain in his head. She removed it by temporarily paralyzing him, and at the same time made sure that all of the chakra blocks were in place."

Naruto seemed to mull over all of this information, unsure of how to accept it. "Chakra…blocks?" He asked about the thing that was confusing him the most. "He has no chakra flow?"

Kakashi had to look away, unable to see the boy he had taught have such a sad look on his face. "Not at the moment. And if he has any, it's an incredibly low amount. The blocks aren't permanent – someone has to accompany him to Tsunade's office once a week to have a little bit of chakra released into his body. The person going with him will be me, and if I'm on a mission, you. One of us always has to be able to have an eye on him. Do you understand?"

Though dazed, the blonde managed a stiff nod. "But he's…okay?"

Kakashi nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. They started whispering, but Sasuke didn't stay to listen. He turned back towards the guest room, head spinning from what he just heard. The Hokage had placed chakra blocks throughout his body to keep chakra from flowing freely? He stumbled back into the bed and crawled under the covers, holding his hands up straight above his face. They shook slightly, as if bragging his lack of strength. But it made sense – without his flow of chakra he was weak and shaky.

He dropped his hands and rolled onto his side, eyes stinging from a memory of tears. He felt as if he should have cried because he had created a feared name for himself, and now he was nothing. Who's fault was it? His? Or Akatsuki's? Or maybe it was even Naruto's?

He shut his eyes tightly and forced his mind to push those thoughts away. _Nothing was Naruto's fault_, he told himself. Naruto didn't destroy his life. Naruto didn't force him to go to Orochimaru's hideout a number of years ago. Naruto never made him join Akatsuki. No, Sasuke did that all by himself.

Trying to relax, he eventually fell into a fitful sleep. His dreams were the same.


End file.
